Free From the Boots Up by Andi Marquette Page B

grew up in Sacramento
and moved to L.A. for school at USC. I majored in journalism and graduated two
years ago.”
    “You must be good,” Meg said, “to write for the Times already.”
    Gina raised an eyebrow. “Careful with the flattery,”
she said, a layer of teasing in her voice. “I might like it.”
    Meg swallowed. Hard. “And would that be a bad thing?”
Oh, hell. Did she actually say that?
    “Nope.” Gina grinned.
    “I’ll remember that.”
    “I hope so.”
    Oh, no. Here she went, digging another hole. “So what’s
on your agenda for tomorrow?” she deflected.
    A thoughtful expression entered Gina’s eyes. “A
little of this. A little of that. More of you, I hope.”
    Meg stared at her.
    “I like your stories,” she said smoothly. She pushed
away from the fence. “Thanks for talking. Hope we’ll do it again. On and off
the record.” She raised her eyebrows in a question.
    She nodded, trying not to look as if she was staring,
though she was.
    “See you at dinner.” She left Meg with one of her
enigmatic little smiles and Meg watched her walk away, not sure what just
happened on the one hand and not sure if anything actually did on the other.
    She chewed her lip. And then caught herself. Yes, she
had a crush. Okay, maybe a serious attraction. But that was no excuse for not
maintaining a professional demeanor. Especially since she’d just ragged on
Davey. She thought back on the conversation and relaxed a little. She hadn’t
been flirting. At least not consciously. Maybe a little toward the end, but
nothing at all like what Davey pulled.
    Meg stared down at the dogs, who were engaged in the
important canine pursuit of wrestling in the dirt. She glanced at the office,
across the parking area. What the hell was she thinking? Guests were
off-limits.
    But what about after Gina left the ranch?
    Dumb idea. Gina would go back to California and that
would be the end of it. She turned and rested her head against the wooden rail
of the paddock, warm and dry on her skin. There was no way that anything would
happen between them. Even if Gina was interested—and Meg had no evidence
she was—there was just no way it could happen.
    But damn, Gina moved her.
    Meg sighed and went to the lodge. She had to find a
way to let this go.
    Damn.

Six
    A full house at the Diamond Rock meant
little room to do any kind of fraternizing other than a quick howdy, which was
a good thing, Meg decided, because she was too busy to let Gina really distract
her. Though all Meg had to do was see her, and she got distracted.
    Or thought even more about her.
    She needed to be even busier.
    Especially since Gina caught both Stan and Meg on
Tuesday for a thirty-minute sit-down. Much to Meg’s relief, her crush didn’t
show. She hoped. At least Stan seemed pleased after Gina left.
    “That’s my girl,” he said to her. “Thanks, hon.”
    “I told you it would be all right.” She’d replied, and
then she left to work an afternoon trail ride. Before she knew it, the Tuesday
bonfire was winding down and guests were straggling to their rooms, Wyoming
nightfall as company.
    “I’ve got this, Meg. Go on and have some down time.”
Jackson gave her a nod as he worked on putting the fire out.
    “Thanks.” She left the pit area and walked around the
dining hall to the parking area. The lights were off at the office, so her dad
was done for the evening, too. She glanced at the second level of the motel, at
what she knew was the door to room five. A light was on behind the room’s
window. Maybe Gina was writing, and that’s why she’d left the fire early.
    She stared at the window a few more seconds, thinking
that Gina would be gone come Friday, which definitely put a damper on her
birthday. Shit, she’d been so busy, she’d forgotten her birthday until just now.
Maybe she could get Gina to stay an extra night and have a piece of cake. Oh,
my God. How lame did that sound? How
old was she? Ten?
    Maybe she could ask for her phone